


Priodas Cyfleustra

by Cosmicboredom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Anal Sex, Blood Magic, Canonical Character Death, Dark Magic, Gay Sex, Inferi, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Magical Tattoos, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Properly, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Sex Magic, Still, Tag, dunno, helpme, how, to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmicboredom/pseuds/Cosmicboredom
Summary: Things changed so quickly.At one point, Severus could swear he had control of this war but now... he wasn't sure of anything anymore.Potter no longer made others stand up for him, Albus lied to everyone and couldn't handle the pressures. Now, the Headmaster is buried in the ground and the dark is closing in over them, Severus just wants to lay down and die. Maybe it will all go away.But, of course, the smell of the burning red hair is real, the hands grasping at him every day are real. And there's never an escape for Severus.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	1. Kenas Ehwaz

**Author's Note:**

> So, no, I haven't watched the Fantastic Beasts saga yet. I know there's a bunch of lore there that is simply a must-know for all Potterheads in those movies, but I'm scared, alright? I'm scared of falling in love with something and having it taken away from me! It always happens to me, I get into something, and then all of a sudden, I'm too late and it's already way over by the time I'm excited about it. Except for Supernatural. They really got it going on...  
> Anyway, I was browsing gifs from the Harry Potter-verse in general and came up with this some eight months ago. I've been working through it slowly, but I have a bunch of chapters to show off, so I got impatient. XD So much for waiting to post until it was finished, right?  
> And if you happen to be one of my readers who has the fortunate opportunity to read my other works, know that THIS is why I got real quiet on the other chapter-based stories. You won't regret it, but I might. ^-^

A hundred soulless bodies piled at the gate, all groaning or just staring ahead blankly. Yesterday, it had been dozens; the day before they barely had ten banging on the wrought-iron. Tomorrow, they would have thousands.

It started small at first, localized in a small town where the creatures began crawling out of their graves at their master's bidding. Voldemort had maybe two scores of these monsters when Severus left the ranks. Dumbledore couldn't blame him, any who were not loyal to the Dark Lord was torn apart by his undead army. Severus had seen it happen, he was afraid to be next. So he fled. And Hogwarts became a stronghold against the dead masses.

They recalled as many students as possible, offering asylum to the families of those who returned. Severus had only seen the castle full once before, and the future looked as bleak then as it did now. Many of his Slytherin students refused, he knew why.

Potter and his friends sealed the gates, while Dumbledore and McGonagall strengthened the wards. The entire Order now resided within the walls of the school. It was getting crowded, and now, the village of Hogsmeade was abandoned, though the wards would never make it that far. Severus resigned himself to the dungeons, brewing potions for the sick and injured. One day he may as well be making nutrition potions so they don't all die from starvation.

London was the first to go black. The hordes tore through the city with abandon, destroying anyone in their path. The Ministry held out for a few days, with its new Anti-Death Eater detection and deflection method. Honestly, who would stand in the toilet to go to work anyway? The Daily Prophet churned out a paper almost every hour, always displaying the names of the people gone missing or dead. Sometimes there would be an accompanying photo, but Severus couldn't bring himself to look at them after the first one. Jane Doe; Muggle, eviscerated. Literally, her guts were strewn across the asphalt of the street, she looked more goo than human.

Then the papers stopped, and the Ministry fell into a pile of ashes under the streets of what used to be London.

Then the whole country went to shit, and then the rest of the world. Severus was certain there were pockets of civilization all over, hiding from the inevitable onslaught of grasping fingers and white eyes. Both magical and Muggle. His own father had been one of those people, stock-piling goods, gathering the best weapons, learning to live without electricity and magic. There were bound to be others, like the Granger family, just bunkered in and waiting for rescue.

But Potter wasn't ready. Six times he stood against the might of Voldemort, each time revealed how truly immortal the Dark wizard had become. And last time, they almost lost Potter to the horde. If Severus didn't know better, Potter would be out searching for that last Horcrux and they would inevitably lose the boy to the wilderness.

Not that it wasn’t a _pleasant_ idea.

Severus sneered at the hand that reached for his coat.

The fingers were long, spider-like in their thin grace. The milky white eyes saw nothing more than something to eat, to destroy. He pulled out his wand and cast a soundless, non-verbal fire spell at the head attached to the offending hand. The body burned, emitting a screeching wail, a few octaves higher than any normal human. The others ran away from the fire, into the woods, into the village. They would always come back.

But Severus didn’t know how much longer they could stand.


	2. Uruz Thurisaz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things always change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I got excited, so here's chapter two!
> 
> I know, I'm such a dork.

The hundred from yesterday were back, with friends.

It seemed they either wandered into the general vicinity out of pure chance, or Voldemort was finally knocking on the door. Hundreds couldn’t even begin to explain the mass scale that arose in the morning dew before his very eyes.

He thanked Merlin for the wards, and their strength.

He wondered for a brief, horrifying moment; had the Dark Lord died to his own creatures? Had he been slaughtered, butchered beyond recognition, and the force of his hate carried these dead bodies around like imitation ghosts? If Voldemort had been vengeful, hateful, and angry enough to create Horcruxes, could he also sustain the very fabric of dead flesh with merely his rage?

Severus had to shake himself. There was no possible way the Dark Lord, Master of Necromancy and all things dark and violent, could plausibly lose control of the thread of his magic. That was the very reason he had been drawn in the first place; the Dark Lord’s power, his boldness to use it, and the elegance of his work. But the man had been far crueler than he could have ever imagined.

He spotted a flash of red hair, deep like the blood on her white dress.

His hands shook with rage. The grip on his wand nearly broke it in two as he cast a vicious fire spell at the girl. He spat on the ground and kicked up dirt against her face as she burned away. Potter could  _ never  _ see this.

He sent several more spells flying into the crowd, and the rest fled before the heat. Because no amount of magic could permanently protect the flesh from flame. His vicious snarl echoed against the trees, he hoped the Dark Lord could hear him.

As he returned to the castle’s footsteps, he saw a figure standing against the door. Almost nonchalant, like he  _ owned _ the place. It grated on Severus’ nerves the way only a Potter could. But the boy-  _ man-  _ Potter was a man, now- was also green eyes, and loyalty and justice, and the sense of everything right in the world. Severus hated trying to reconcile the parents with the child. The man who led a war as if he was bred for it, the boy-who-lived to make his life hell.

Potter no longer doubted his loyalty, and Severus tried to curb his harsh tone and sharp words in recompense. He was no longer the double-spy that Dumbledore wanted him to be, and Potter wasn’t the champion Dumbledore had been training, their lives were suddenly different and yet much the same.

“Severus,” Potter greeted him after an awkward exchange of glances. Severus did not look away once.

“Potter, what are you doing out here? It’s not your shift yet.”

The younger wizard shrugged. “Looking out for you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Potter.”

“Of course not, sir.”

Severus let out a growl, he was not to be trifled with, not after- “I swear to-”

“Don’t worry, Professor. I won’t tell anyone.” Potter said solemnly. And  _ there, _ there was the new warlord of their time, calmly telling his disciples that murder was okay, that these people, who were once  _ people, _ were nothing more than target practice. Severus hated him.

Not because of his power, or that the boy looked too much like James. He hated what the world made of the boy.

“There’s nothing  _ to  _ tell.” He quipped nastily. “It is my duty to protect these grounds and  _ all _ within them. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the Headmaster.”

Potter shrugged again, pretending to be that carefree child he once was. It was a deceptively good tactic to lure his followers into trusting him. “I didn’t see any problem at all, sir.” The young man said. “I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to do it.”

Severus cursed Potter’s ancestors, each and every one of them. If he had been faster, or if he hadn’t shown any emotion at all, Potter would never have known. He looked back at the piles of ashes just outside the gate.

Lily would’ve wanted to be cremated, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenas Ehwaz- protection and defense from that which is hidden


	3. Jera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then it all stays the same.

Severus’ father had been good at one thing, and one thing only. Teaching his son to live on the barest minimum.

As a child, he never understood exactly what kind of psychosis his father went through every day. He wasn’t allowed to go to public school, he wasn’t allowed to have friends over, anyone who _did_ come over was subjected to intense questioning and several physical tests. Lily tried to pass them, the one time he invited her over, but she was quickly expelled from the house for having red hair. At the time, his father had said it was because she was obviously a witch, but that theory went out the window when Severus began manifesting his powers. Then it was because she was a ginger, and that was laughable.

But dinner was… shit. To say the least.

Every night, it was beans or rice, and maybe a slice of meat. His father was a frugal man and insisted that anyone could live off these three things alone. Obviously, the man had never heard of peanut butter, but thanks to tourism, he knew that peanut butter was a safer alternative. A few oranges here and there, and maybe a banana. Some bread. Fish from the Black Lake. It was truly a feast in comparison, and he was healthier than he ever had been before. Even the ten years he waited for Potter to return were not as fruitful for him.

He needed to be. The whole castle depended on a select few against this infestation, and Dumbledore was growing weaker every day.

He wasn’t entirely sure, but _something_ was eating away at the Headmaster. Madame Pomfrey had tried everything in her expertise by now, and Severus had been tasked with the issue, since he was, in fact, one of the last connoisseurs of the Dark Arts. He had so far found nothing to indicate that Albus was wasting away from nothing more than old age.

Today would prove no different, he thought as he dressed for the day.

If he could lay a finger on the problem-

A finger.

He slammed through the door, knocking things off the table behind it. Honestly, who would store things _behind_ the opening door?

“Albus, I demand to see your hands.” He all but shouted.

It seemed he had the worst timing, as the Headmaster appeared to be in an intense meeting with Potter. The younger wizard was bent over the desk, his chest heaving as if he had run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to be here, and Dumbledore was quietly sitting in his chair, a desk between them, and a slight ringing in the air. Had they been arguing? Had Severus accidentally stumbled upon a rare moment between them, where Harry is finally _fed up_ with the lies, and Albus can’t do anything but take the blame?

“Severus,” Albus said cheerily. It was fake, Severus could hear it. It was the same tone he’d use when one of _their_ arguments had been interrupted. “If you don’t mind, I am in the middle of a meeting. May I ask that you wait outside for a moment?”

Harry stared hard enough to turn the old man to stone. “No, it’s fine. I have _more important_ things I should be doing, _Professor._ ” The younger wizard snapped pointedly and stood straight.

On the boy’s way out, Severus could swear he heard Potter mumble something that sounded suspiciously like his given name. A sheepish, nervous, _teenage_ voice saying, “Severus.” in the sweetest tones of civility.

A chill ran down his spine as the door clicked closed. Silence reigned over the room, and Albus looked more than peeved. Perhaps, Severus thought viciously, the boy was considering changing Dumbledore’s Grand Plan.

“Severus,” Dumbledore called to him. “My hands are fine.”

He switched gears in an instant. “I think you are lying to me, and you lied to Poppy. Show me your hands.”

Dumbledore smiled to himself. “My boy, this will do nothing to aid you. My health is deteriorating for a very good reason.”

“And that is?” Severus narrowed his eyes. He always knew when his masters were lying, though _they_ never knew.

“Old age, my dear friend!” Albus laughed. “I am old, and my body is retaliating.”

Severus shook his head. “No, you can lie to Potter, you can lie to Poppy. You can lie to the _fucking Ministry!_ But you cannot lie to me. That hand-” He pointed to it, the one the old man kept hidden behind his desk, behind his sleeve. “-was cursed! I know it, Albus! Why wouldn’t you tell me?! How am I supposed to help you like this?

“I am sorry, Severus.”

“You’re sorry?” Severus snapped. “For what? Torturing me with my guilt? Forcing me to do your bidding? Never giving me the full plan? For leading Potter to slaughter and ruin?”

Albus’ smile never faded, it just became sad. Severus could never hold up against it. “I am sorry for everything. I am dying. There is no other way to put it. I have been slowly losing strength since my last excursion, and it is all because of the power of the Dark Lord. The power that I created.”

“What do you mean?” Severus sniped.

“Tom was one of my students. I could have shown him a different path.” Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes closing for the barest of seconds. “But I didn’t, I let my fear and my hatred stand in my way, and I created the Monster of monsters. Do not be so foolish as I, my boy. Do not let yourself be blind to everything wonderful and beautiful, let your anger go. These are my last words of wisdom, as I do not think I shall survive the night, so heed them well, Severus. The boy will need you before you know it, do not be frozen as I have.”

“I could save you, old fool!”

Albus waved him off with a smile that was all too serene for his liking. “My time is done, my friend.”

Severus stared at him, had the man gone mad?

“Do one last thing for me?” The older wizard said. Severus could hardly bear his own breaking heart, how could he take on yet _another_ thing for his mentor?

“Anything.” He breathed. He was alone. There was no one left in his life.

“Burn my body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uruz Thurisaz- a force of physical destruction


	4. Eihwaz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Except when someone dies... And then there's nothing left to do except move on in the best way possible.

Severus was tired. Tired of being used, tired of being abused, tired of adhering to another’s plans, tired of living when everyone he loved crashed and burned. But most of all, he was tired from staying up with the Headmaster, until he took his last breath, until the body was nothing but ashes. Until the funeral that afternoon.

The whole castle turned inside out for this event. Albus had been well-loved by so many, it seemed only right that the grounds were full of restless,  _ alive, _ souls mourning the man’s passing. No one had even known it had been so dire, Severus was left to bear that weight alone. He was thankful for Minerva, for without her, he would not have the strength to attend.

It was a bleak day as if the very Earth knew they had lost a great mentor that morning. And there were no ghouls at the wards. Perhaps, even they could feel the remorse and sorrow for miles; being creatures of the Dark Lord, they wouldn’t understand it and flee to avoid it. Severus kept his eyes outward anyway, he couldn’t bear to see the tomb with no body inside, he would rather see another ghost of his past.

He felt Potter sidle up next to him, facing the opposite direction. He glanced over his shoulder at Potter’s friends. They didn’t look too happy, but then, no one did.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Severus.” Potter said quietly.

“He was not just my mentor, Potter.” Severus replied in a dull voice.

“He meant a lot to you, that’s gotta mean something, y’know?”

Severus let his eyes close, he  _ really _ didn’t want to do this today.

“It’s okay, Severus,” Potter said, and he glanced over to see the younger man smiling slightly.

“I’m not sure you understand what has happened, Potter.” He hissed.

Those green eyes leveled him with a stare that Lily could never have given him, not even after all the years they’d been friends. It was a look of  _ knowing, _ of being able to see right through his every defense.

“I do understand, Sev.” Potter nodded. “I am here for you, even when you think you are alone.”

And, just like that, the boy was walking away.

He had to suppress another shiver.

“Alright, let’s get this thing going, shall we?” Potter commanded from the head of the war table. Every available member of the Order crammed into the room, around the flat map of the grounds. Severus could see little ribbons moving in certain areas, and automatically knew what he was looking at. He sneered. “Who wants to go first?”

“Without Dumbledore, we’re left with nothing!” Kingsley shouted, banging his big fist against the table. Potter put both his hands on the table with an annoyed glare at the former Minister. “We have no other way to locate the last Horcrux, and we  _ still  _ haven’t been able to find the fucking Sword. We are down two, and no hope in sight.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t have left without a plan. He must have left  _ something _ behind, something important. Harry, did he say anything to you?” Remus asked and the clamor that arose with Kingsley’s observations died as every eye turned to the one man in the room that spent the most time with the deceased.

“He wouldn’t tell the boy.” Severus piped in. He waved a hand at Potter as all the attention focused on him. “The Dark Lord shares a special connection with Potter, nothing we do or say is safe. Dumbledore wouldn’t let the information into the wrong hands. No offense, Potter, but you simply never had the skills to be an accomplished Occlumens.”

Potter was nodding. “Severus is right.” The younger man said. “If I paid more attention, this wouldn’t have been an issue. But here we are.”

“The late Headmaster couldn’t trust any single person with his master plan.” Severus pointed out, his voice raised with every word. “His master plan was to slaughter Harry for nothing more than the sake of a prophecy that could’ve been about  _ any fucking child born on the 31st of July! _ Did you all  _ really _ think he was that omniscient? That he had every solution to every question? He lied to us all, and expected us to eat the shit regardless of what we thought was right.”

“Dumbledore was the greatest sorcerer in the world,” Nymphadora muttered.

“Yes,” Severus snapped sarcastically. “He defeated the last great dark wizard before the Dark Lord, his lover, and brother-in-arms, Grindelwald. For one second, can we look at it logically? How many times did he tell us anything before the raid was supposed to happen? How many times did he send us in blindly?”

Everyone was quiet, no one was willing to speak ill of the dead. Not while the dead were knocking on their doors. Potter was the first to open his mouth.

“So then, you know Voldemort the most, what do you think we ought to do?”

Severus looked down at the table, even if the Dark Lord had changed his plans, he had spent quite a few years living at the man’s side. He should know exactly what the man would do.

“I think you ought to be looking for the last Horcrux, Harry,” Granger said softly. “We may not know what it is, or where it is, but Dumbledore must have left  _ something  _ behind.”

Potter gestured to Kingsley. “We went over everything in the will. All I could determine was that he left certain items to us; the book of tales for you, the Deluminator for Ron, and this old snitch for me."

Severus sneered. "He intends for us to find the Deathly Hallows, yes." He snapped before anyone could ask what they had found. They hadn't found anything, there wasn't enough  _ time _ for Potter to understand what the Deathly Hallows were, much less find them. "Albus had the wand. He found the cloak, the one Potter used for many years. But he had to give it to the boy, James insisted it in his will. That left the Stone, and no one has been able to find it since the story came out. The second Brother lost the relic in that house, and what became of it is largely rumor and speculation."

Potter and Granger both stared at him. Perhaps they  _ had _ made that connection, but only recently. They had no idea what to look for, typical Gryffindors.

"So if we have two of three, then we just need the Stone," Potter said, obviously thinking out loud. Severus could hear those poorly-used cogs working overtime.

"We have two avenues to explore, ladies and gentlemen." Remus Lupin spoke up, ever the voice of reason. "Hermione, how many people do you need for a research team?"

"I'm good." The bushy-haired girl didn't even look up from her notepad. Remus smirked, and Severus felt like slapping him. If only to see if that underlying depression would wear off.

"Then the rest of you should continue as we have before. Make sure Hogwarts stays safe, watch out for the kids, we will be having a drill tomorrow. Rest up, or bear down, tonight will be a long one." Potter said with finality, and the room broke into murmurs and chairs scraping and feet dragging against the ground.

They were all tired.

Severus was just barely hitting his reserves, he hadn't slept in two days, and he'd eaten once in the last seventy-two hours. He pushed water the entire time, and added sugar to his coffee so that his energy would last as long as possible. But his mind was exhausted, he'd done all he could with it, and it  _ needed _ to take a break.

He was already planning how much he would need to eat for a Dreamless Sleep potion to work at its maximum.

"Professor, may I walk with you?"

He barely needed to look to know who was asking for his time, his precious time. "I suppose it would not hurt for you to get some wholesome exercise, Potter, but including me in your activities seems a tad insane."

A hand and a hip appeared in his peripheral, Potter was  _ leaning. _

"I think it would be good for you too, sir." The boy said quietly. It was then that Severus thought the boy's expression was necessary, whether he needed to shout obscenities or acquiesce to the boy's wishes.

No, that was most certainly Potter's serious face.

"Alright." He muttered and stood as tall as he could with his back aching as it did, from the chair and the potion-making. He was glad the school was over for now. "Though I hardly see why."

Severus led their walk, and he was intent on getting some good sleep in. So he went to the kitchens. The elves were busy, yes, but there was always one that gave him the time of day. "Mitzy! Are you well?" He shouted over the clanging of pots.

"Mister Snape, your crumpets and tea are set in your study." A young female elf squeaked from somewhere in the midst of the hustle and bustle. Her voice was unusual for an elf, but not for her stature.

"Thank you, my dear. Be sure to visit me in the morning for your reward." Severus said blandly. Potter may not be bright, but he certainly wasn't  _ completely _ dull. He would not be caught dead treating anyone as an equal, much less the smallest House Elf he'd ever seen.

He pushed Potter out before the Gryffindor could even crack a stupid grin.

"Severus, I want to thank you for all you've done for us," Potter said as he meandered after the Potions Master. "You have been the best asset to myself and Dumbledore, I wanted to make sure you knew you were appreciated."

Severus scoffed. They had passed his classroom, the door had been sealed since younger children had taken residence here, too many chances for accidents. He frowned to himself.

"No, it's true." Potter protested, bringing him back to the present. He sneered at the idea of being generally appreciated, it meant parades, ceremonies,  _ human interaction. _

His skin crawled over itself at the thought.

"If half of them knew the truth, they would be trying to kill me." He muttered aloud, not even realizing he had said it.

But Potter, unfortunately, was too quick for that. "Wait. Do you-? Sev, you need to tell me." Fingers twisted into his sleeve, his  _ left _ sleeve. He jerked away as if he'd been burnt, and maybe he  _ had been. _ It certainly felt… odd. To be touched there by Voldemort's natural enemy.

He clenched his hand into a fist, maybe that would stop him from socking the kid in the eye.

Potter looked similarly shaken, but he recovered quickly. "You need to tell me what Dumbledore told you." The younger wizard demanded of him.

His jaw felt like clenching down on the words, but both of his masters now,  _ suddenly, _ had no leash on him. "I already told you. He planned on you facing the Dark Lord, and whether or not you survived  _ did not _ weigh on him at all. He was  _ convinced _ it had to be so, that you had to fail one last time in order to beat him. But that was  _ before _ this madness! I do not see how it could possibly be important now, nor ever before.

"All we have now is to wait for those bodies to pile up so we can destroy  _ as many as we can _ . This isn't about good and evil, Potter. This is survival, and it never factored into that fool's plans. Why, you ask? The man has never been beaten, he never expected to BE SURROUNDED ON ALL SIDES BY THE WALKING DEAD!"

"But I did," Potter argued, and was he breathless? "I was the one that Voldemort couldn't keep out, I knew before he amassed his army. You can't keep this from me."

Severus sneered, hopefully for the last time that night, hopefully for the last time ever. "I am not your servant, Potter."

Those eyes,  _ Lily's eyes _ , glared at him. He felt both affronted and ashamed. "I never asked you to be."

Severus felt like hitting him, they weren't  _ friends _ . They barely had a decent conversation in years, and during that time, Severus was busy trying to keep Harry safe by distancing himself. There had never been time for Potter to rectify what he had done.

"I know you hate me. But you loved Albus as much as I did." Potter said calmly. "For him, we have to work together."

"I don't-" Severus bit his tongue. If he said anything, it should be; "Albus wanted you to die, Potter. As that is  _ not _ acceptable in any world, we must focus on finding the things that may help us. Your Deathly Hallows." He was surprised by how calm he sounded.

"But you said the third would be impossible to find." Potter narrowed those verdant eyes at him. "You know where the stone is."

Not a question, when had the boy learned to read him so well?

"No, I merely have speculations as to its whereabouts." He griped, trying to shut down that hope that kept blaring in his face.

"So then, why haven't you left to find it?"

Severus turned so swiftly, he could feel his neck pop from the strain.

"Because it's here, isn't it?" Potter was bold, to make such accusations. But he was right. Severus knew exactly where it was: Potter.

"This is not something we should be discussing in the open, regardless of whether I know anything," Severus growled, still moving forward. He was  _ so close _ to the tea and the Dreamless Sleep he had prepared for an occasion such as this. Potter better not invite himself in.

"Severus, I'm not leaving until I know the truth," Potter said from just behind him. "You've never lied to me before."

"Oh, haven't I?" Severus snarked. "I thought I was just your bat of a teacher who put you through immeasurable misery. Spreading lies is what I'm  _ good _ at, Potter."

"You weren't lying when you said I was just as arrogant as my father." Potter prodded. Oh, what unholy justice.

"No." He agreed.

"You weren't lying when you said you belonged to Dumbledore, he never asked you to lie about that."

"If this is some misguided attempt to become friendly with me, bringing up the very people who made my life hell is not the way to go." Severus threw over his shoulder. Potter grabbed at his arm again, not the left one obviously, but Severus was too quick for it. He did, in fact, have a godson who acted more like an octopus than anything else. He was well-trained. "I'm not a child anymore, Severus. And I can't do this alone."

Severus bared his teeth in annoyance.

"I need you more than ever. Severus, please."

He stopped in his tracks. One click from his boot against the stone floor as he froze. The hallway was silent then, though he could remember a thousand times that those two words have gotten him into trouble.

_ Please, watch over the boy, Severus. _

_ Severus, I can't bear this anymore. Please. _

_ Please forgive me, Severus. _

_ I need you to do this for me, Severus, please kill me. _

_ Please, Severus. My boy doesn't deserve this, he could die. _

"Severus, I need you."

His shoulders slumped. For all that he was a bastard, and a traitor, and a spy, he  _ still _ couldn't get over pleading.

_ Severus, please, baby. Hide until I come for you. _

"You don't need me." He said out loud. "You already know the answers, Harry."

"But,"

"Let me see the thing Dumbledore left you," Severus said, holding out his hand. Potter was quick, and something gold and heavy fell into his palm. A Golden Snitch. There was writing engraved on it, in Dumbledore's hand,  _ I open at the close. _

"It's the first one I ever caught, the one I swallowed," Potter said as if Severus didn't know, as if he  _ really _ hadn't cared for the boy at all. He had been the one to collect the damn thing, after all.

"For perseverance. The tenacity that ultimately will drive you to your death." He lifted the gold thing to his lips and whispered to the snidget. He heard a metallic clink, and then the little ball was pulling itself apart.

Inside, sat a dark stone inlay, once part of a ring. The heirloom of the Gaunt family, Voldemort's last familial possession. It too had become a Horcrux, and Albus had been too foolish to see that.

"This is the Stone. The wand is tucked away in Dumbledore's crypt, though it will not work for you." He said as he gave the snidget and the Stone back to Potter.

"Why?"

"Because I killed him," Severus muttered without conviction. It had been the worst thing he had ever done, and if he was to die for it, then he would rather it be Potter than those mindless things at the gate.

"Then that's good. No one can use it, that means Voldemort has to get you first." Potter sounded too excited for his own good.

"No, that means I have to die in order for you to win."

There was silence, where Severus thought there would be hollering and celebration. Instead of victorious, Potter just looked  _ sad. _ Why?

"There has to be another way." The boy insisted. "Where is the last Horcrux?"

Severus felt his entire world fall away. It was a direct question, and the boy had said  _ please _ , he wasn't able to lie anymore. "It's you, Potter."

He could see the boy thinking, looking for a way out of this. But there was nothing, no salvation. One of them had to die for the other to survive.

Potter's eyes looked far too much like Lily's when they stared up at him.

"You're not allowed to die."

Severus scoffed.

"No!" Potter was yelling. "I can't- I won't let you."

"You have to."

"No, no. We'll find another way. This can't be it, there's got to be other ways. I can't let you do this."

Severus felt like they were back in his classroom, wands out, and Potter had so little resistance. Swiftly, he pushed his mind into Potter's and it was a  _ mess _ . Thoughts whizzed by so fast, and there was anguish, but for what he couldn't tell. He did not delve deeper, but he had seen what he needed to see.

"You will, Potter. And it will work."

He stalked off, but Potter didn't follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jera- emotional strength


	5. Fehu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then a door opens....

Severus was out on the grounds again. Clouds were rolling in on what was now a calm but cool breeze, one that could lift his hair, but not enough to make his robe billow. Not that he cared, but it sure would look cool.

The ghouls had not returned since Dumbledore's funeral, but Severus was certain Voldemort would not stop. There were people inside that he wanted to get his hands on. He was one of them, but Voldemort wouldn't get the chance to touch him. Severus knew far too much to be caught unaware and vulnerable.

But Potter was always an exception to the rules.

"I figured it out."

Severus nearly jumped out of his skin, but he would  _ never _ let the brat know it. "And what did you figure out, Mr. Potter?" He managed to get out in a clear voice.

Potter practically vibrated with undue energy. "I know how to save both of us."

Severus' scoff physically hurt to produce. It had only been six or so hours, how could anyone connect the dots that fast? "Likely story."

"No, I'm serious. Like, dead serious."

Severus spun on his heel, spitting venom. "There's no  _ possible _ alternative to this! We are meant to die! That was the plan all along, and we were  _ used _ , Potter! Don't you get that? Does it register in that thick skull of yours that I don't  _ want  _ to be saved? That I willfully put you and your family in danger from day one and continued to torture you for the last eight or nine years? I don't  _ deserve  _ to be saved!"

Potter didn't flinch, not once. It was the most unnerving thing Severus had ever seen. "Are you done?" Was all he asked.

Severus felt a wave of insuppressible anger rise up in his chest, reach a heady peak, and then dissipate entirely. Leaving him tired all over again, as was usual when concerning Potter. He straightened his back, stood as tall as possible but he was only a few inches taller than the younger wizard. James had been so much shorter.

"Are. You. Done?" Potter repeated, seeming to clench his jaw. Severus took note, hearing the seriousness in the young man's tone, marking every gesture, measuring every expression that flitted in both Potter's eyes and face. The boy had never learned to hide his heart, instead, he wore it like a badge of honor, like a shield to be wielded at the drop of a pin. Now was not the time to cut down whatever Potter had found, even if it was not the  _ best _ plan.

That was one thing that no one had ever given him; the truth.

"Fine. What is Miss Granger's plan?" He asked, pocketing his wand. He would not need it in the castle.

The grin that broke the stone of Potter's face blinded him with sunlight. He immediately regretted every word he'd said since Dumbledore's death.

"Hermione found some very intricate magicks hidden away in the Come-and-Go room, but they were in Latin, so we spent all night translating them into English."

"I am aware of the Room of Requirement."

"You've never been inside?"

"...No."

Another blinding smile. "Don't worry, I'll show you how to use it."

"Wonderful."

"So we were translating these books- well, no. Hermione was translating, I fell asleep halfway through and she finished my work too. Anyway, we found this one book,  _ A Guide to Working Elemental Magick, _ and in it was a section on mastering all of the elements. It requires a great deal of power."

"I am familiar with the  _ Guide _ , I have a copy myself. But tell me this, there are Dark and Powerful rituals in these particular texts, how could someone leave such a thing behind?"

"We weren't sure. But we found the Diadem in there last year, and have been excavating it since. In case, you know."

"In the event of an event, of course. But the texts, Potter."

"Right, right. Well, I found something that could break all bonds we previously carry, but it would forge something new, entirely, a whole new beginning, so to speak. It could rewrite the last few months, bring back the people we lost, reduce the amount of damage we've sustained."

"Are you insane? That kind of ritual would take months, maybe years to work."

"Why is that? It said both participants must be willing and- and why won't it work?"

"Because the participants must be willing to have sex with each other."

"I don't see that as a problem. Do you?"

Severus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, of  _ course  _ Potter didn't read the whole thing. "We would essentially be married, Potter."

There was a pause in the conversation, where Potter looked more constipated than ever.

"We wouldn't be married."

It sounded breathless, almost wistful, but Severus knew better. Potter was probably regretting bringing it up.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. We would. We would live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, share our lives together intimately." Severus felt his trademark victory smirk pulling at his face. Potter would retract, he would see the folly of his plan.

"I don't have a problem with that, Severus. But you seem to have reservations."

And the hammer fell.

"What?"

Shock. Disbelief. In no possible way, in no possible  _ world _ . But this had become an impossible world.

"If you don't want this, Severus, I won't force you."

Potter, ever the noble prince. How could he be so cruel?

"I want Voldemort dead. This will not help us." He tried to justify.

Potter was angry now. "This is  _ exactly _ what will help us! Are you afraid? Afraid of me? Afraid of being another servant? I wouldn't do that to you! I'm not Dumbledore's little fucking toy, I did not  _ enjoy _ being played with, tossed about, given  _ no choice _ but to follow along like some zombified ragdoll!"

"I did not say that you did."

Potter's rage had gone beyond reason.

"I would  _ never _ toy with you. And you would never toy with me! We could be powerful together, and this has nothing to do with Voldemort! I don't want to die, Severus. I don't want you to die! I don't want any more death! I want life, and I want it with you! I can't lose you!

"I've lost everyone,  _ everyone _ who cared. But not you. You stayed, despite me being a little shit. You fought for me, you never made me feel special, you kept my head on my shoulders. I would be dead already if not for you, and I'd die if you died. You cannot just wash your hands of me, you loved my mother. How-" Potter stopped, he sounded like he was choking. Severus had never been more concerned. "How come you can't love me?" Potter whispered.

It was a slap to the face, a stab at his dignity. It hurt, but he didn't know why. His heart felt like it was collapsing, how curious.

He had thought it died with Lily.

But, and he thought hard about this now, only seconds in Potter's eyes, but he hadn't thought about how Lily would feel, strung up like a puppet for the Dark Lord, when he burnt her body; He only cared about whether Potter saw her. And the council hadn't been for Dumbledore, who had been dead for all of twelve hours before he had broken protocol at Harry's request. Dumbledore never expressly  _ told  _ him to watch over the boy throughout school, but at the first sight of those eyes, he had been the boy's shadow. He even made it possible to get Harry out of trouble with Umbridge by destroying every bottle of Veritaserum he could get his hands on.

"I do love you."

More silence. Severus closed his eyes against the truth, but it tumbled out of him.

"I love you so much that it hurts me. I've done things, things that were never asked of me, for you. I spied on the Dark Lord for you. Everything I have ever done has been for you. And this is just one more thing I will do. But you will tire of me quickly, and you will wish you hadn't done this. And my heart would never recover from it. Are you willing to risk that, Harry?"

Such hope. Severus' only hope was that he wouldn't be burned once again.

"I would never leave you, Severus. You don't understand, but you will, and I do not give up easily."

"Then, let's hope your plan works."

Potter led him to the Seventh floor, and to a spot in front of a painting of trolls in ballet shoes. It was an odd spot of the castle, and not just because of the trolls. There were no doors here, no windows. This whole wing was all stone and brick, and all he could think about was how a horde could easily trap them here.

He could see it. Him and Potter, fighting off the faceless ghosts as thousands squeeze in behind them. Or hopefully, into the Come-and-Go room.

If Potter could find it.

The boy was pacing, his head turned downward, and his eyes closed. Lips moving as if he were recalling from memory some map.

"What are-"

On Potter's turn, perhaps the third or fourth, a door materialized out of the stone wall opposite that horrendous painting. Severus felt his mouth fall slack a little, amazement controlling his very-disciplined body, and took a step forward. A handle popped out at him, ornate iron laurel leaves curling over a keyhole. Potter took the handle and pulled the door open, to a room that looked suspiciously familiar and yet different.

But Granger, Longbottom, Lovegood, and Miss Weasley were all inside, waiting. This was  _ not _ his office.

He looked at Potter, who smiled at him. Every cell in his body screamed that he should run, run far and run fast. This would not end well, it would be a disaster. Something horrible awaited him once the door closed.

But he quietly stuffed it away, he had to trust Potter, the boy had never given him a reason not to. That still didn't mean something unimaginable was waiting for him.

"I must say, being invited into the club has no glamour at all." He snapped, defensive as he walked in. Longbottom looked down, but the others just looked at him.

Potter was the first one to speak, and the room suddenly changed, it wasn't just him that they were waiting for. "I know you all have reservations about this." The young man paused to look back at Severus. "Even Severus has reservations. I have reservations. But we can't sit by and let the world go to shit."

"That's what I'm saying, Harry," Ginerva said. "We should be out there looking for survivors, not entertaining some old magic that doesn't work."

"It'll work," Granger spoke up. "I have no doubt it will work, Professor Snape wouldn't be here if it didn't."

"It might not work," Longbottom mumbled.

"And why not?" Granger turned on him.

Severus caught the glance they gave him. "Because you think I'm not willing. Or you think I've somehow jinxed Potter." He said without looking at her, he kept his head held high. "Not only is it impossible to make Potter do what I want, but I also assure you that this is not something that would be my first choice either. This is extremely old, extremely powerful magic. The kind that requires time and preparation, and devotion to the entire process. Things we do not necessarily have at this moment in time."

Potter cleared his throat. "If anyone still thinks I'm under a spell, they can leave now."

No one got up.

"Alright then. We need to mobilize, all of the ingredients, every tool, every step must be perfect. I don't want to fuck this up, and I don't want anyone else to die. We need to be working like a clock, nothing must stand in our way." Potter said, and then Potter got an idea. "I want to head the gathering parties, in case we get into trouble. No one else should know, keep them on the grounds, watching for the Zeds. Hermione, keep me apprised of the goings-on, I want them all in the Hall for dinner tonight. We must keep our strength up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eihwaz- good fortune


	6. Perthro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then all you have left is what is in your hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have two other chapters stored up, but that means I have to get off my ass and write more. I'm just so busy lately that I haven't had time to post regularly T.T  
> I hope I get more time over the next few weeks, but I have videos to edit, and projects to finish. So we shall see how this goes. If not, I still have a few more chapters for you guys.

Potter never left him alone now. And it was just as well, they had to develop some sort of relationship in order for the magic to work.

But waking up with the younger wizard laying across his chest, when clearly they had gone to sleep on either side of the bed, was a short-lived respite from the constantness of Potter's presence. The boy never said anything he didn't mean, and that left Severus with several jaw-dropping moments to examine when he  _ was  _ alone. And Potter said a great plethora of things; how they would live together after the war, how their garden should look, where he wanted to take Severus and  _ haven't you been to a zoo before? Wouldn't you like to watch the Times Square ball drop on New Year's? Could we get a dog? Or a cat? Cats are better. _

Severus never thought he would have lived so long, so his answers were always short, and it looked like he was shutting Potter down. He didn't know what to do. He was suddenly surrounded by this energetic love, and it was hard to see how they were supposed to do this together.

He supposed talking to Potter was his only option, and that wasn't a very strong trait of his. He'd never talked to someone without trying to get information out of them.

"Harry." He said one evening as they laid on either side of the bed once again. He knew Potter's cuddling would draw them to the middle by morning, but, damn it, this was important. Potter's head swiveled so fast, he worried about the boy's safety.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," Severus muttered, and for the love of Merlin, he was nervous. "For being unreachable."

Potter furrowed his brows. "You're no different than you've always been. I can handle it, Severus. Trust me."

He let out a heavy sigh, this was an unexpected avenue. "No, that is not who I am." He never felt more like a teenager than now. "I used to be able to have fun and laugh. I  _ want  _ to, with you, for you. But I can't shut it off, I'm just-"

"Severus," Potter's hand was flat against his chest, those eyes were very serious as he opened his mouth again. "You are who you are, you're broken and haven't healed properly. I am who I am, and I'm broken too. We can't pretend to be what we think the other should have."

"But I don't want to make you feel like this," Severus said, waving between them. They both knew exactly what he meant,  _ feel like he wasn't invested. _

"I know, and I have been reminding myself that this is a big change, for both of us. That you are relearning how to be human."

"So, you're not mad? Or hurt?" Severus asked incredulously. "I am not as easily pacified as you, I would not tolerate it."

"I've come to accept a lot of things, Severus. And I expected to have gotten into an argument by now, knowing the two of us." Potter laughed and somehow the storm had passed. Severus no longer felt like he was unworthy, or regretted. The anxiety was appeased, and he was able to breathe easier now. He started to laugh along, out of sheer relief, but it was a start. And Potter's eyes shone all the brighter for it.

When Severus awoke with Potter's head and drool on his chest, he couldn't help the smile that came across his face at that moment. Even if he did pinch the younger wizard for covering his chest with drool.

Severus acted as if nothing had changed, he still went out every morning, still managed to keep up a routine of Potion-making, and even took time out of his days to eat more. Strong magic required a strong body and a stronger mind.

Every night, Potter was in his bed, and every morning, he woke up with Potter's hair in his face. And a severe desire for a cold shower.

They parted ways at the door, though Severus knew they would have to start working in tandem, and soon. Potter led the War effort and didn't want him involved in case he was injured, or worse. Severus hated the coddling, but he knew it came from something in Potter that couldn't be quelled. He would have to force his way this time, Potter had to know that he wasn't some damsel destined for distress. He waited, however. Potter had so much to handle that Severus felt like trying to help would only break the system already in place. And the boy was hanging by a thread.

Instead, he made dinner every night, from everything his father had taught him, and everything his mother had tried to impress on him in her own way. And he was learning. Cooking was similar to Potion-making, so he had a leg up this time, and he was slowly becoming quite the artisan in the kitchen.

"What's all this, then?" The younger wizard asked as he entered Severus' private quarters, and took a look at the kitchen, where Severus was busy descaling the fish he caught. He put down the knife, and washed his hands, before doing  _ anything. _

"I thought dinner was already a routine for us. Is it not acceptable?" Severus countered, studying the expressions on Potter's face. Of course, there was confusion and pleasure, but there was also guilt, pressure, and defeat.

"We don't really have a routine, Sev."

He felt the sting of painful victory. Even though Potter sounded forlorn. "No, we don't, Potter."

"You're making a point?"

"Yes."

"And I'm going to figure it out, yeah? Or is this one of those things that I won't get without help?" Harry wondered as he took off his cloak and draped it over the back of one of Severus' kitchen chairs.

"You have the ability to do so without help, although I doubt your busy schedule could help you."

Potter's head snapped up so fast, Severus wondered when the boy would crack his own neck.

"This is about my schedule," Potter said quietly. Severus smiled to himself, if anyone had told him a month ago that he would be privy to the actual inner workings of Potter's mind, he would have hexed them so badly. But here he was, and Potter had caught on far quicker than he thought.

"I already told you it's too dangerous for  _ both _ of us to be going out on raids." Potter held out his hands. Surrendering, good. Severus wouldn't have to fight to make his point clear.

"I told you that it could be countered, very simply, by stating that you are the most important piece on this chessboard. You shouldn't be going anywhere."

"So what do you want to do about this, then?" Potter asked, and Severus could swear the boy's mother was purely responsible for the look her son was giving him. "Am I supposed to stand by while everyone risks their lives for me?"

"I could ask the same question, Harry." Severus changed the pitch of his tone, somber, questioning. It had worked before, on others. People he needed to believe his lies. But now, he figured he could use it to help Harry see the flaw in making him stay behind.

"You're the most-wanted man in the Death Eaters' ranks, I would not be able to live with myself if you were taken, or hurt. Or worse." Potter was shaking his head, always so stubborn.

"I didn't get here by playing the game safely, and I do not intend to let it continue this way." Severus all but whispered, he had to keep his composure. He was so  _ close  _ to getting his way, he was sure of it. "If something happened to you, and I had no way to even attempt to save you, I would walk straight into that horde. I wouldn't even have to think about it. Is that something you'd want for me?"

Potter looked startled, and offended. For what Severus did not yet know, but he was sure he was hitting all the right buttons. Potter would bend and they would be equal.

"No." Potter ground out from between clenched teeth.

"Would you want me to make you stay behind, while I went out to fight your war?" He pressed, already feeling the victory crawl over him. The  _ real _ victory.

"No," Potter answered.

"I would like to join your little meetings more often," Severus said, and he had to force himself to drop the old professor-voice, though it proved to be difficult. "I might as well go mad otherwise. There's not much to do around here anymore, and patrolling the grounds isn't fulfilling enough."

Harry stared up at him for a long pause, then cracked a tired smile. "You win, I guess." The boy ran a hand through his hair, and Severus realized he now knew it was anxiety that made Harry do it. It wasn't  _ any _ vestige of his long-dead father. "Heh, um…" Potter looked tired, maybe that was why he won so easily. "So, tomorrow I'm heading out for more supplies."

"Just you?" Severus asked, pulling out a chair for the boy.

"No, um." Potter gave him a blinding smile. "Luna and Neville are going with me, and then Remus will be in the Owlery when we leave. He'll be watching for the zeds and for our return. Tonks is going with him, so I doubt they'll get much watching done." The boy laughed as if it were not hilarious at all.

"So, you'll need a third."

Potter's jaw fell open. "You just said you didn't want to stay here."

Severus smirked. "No, I said I wanted to  _ do _ something to help. If you need a watcher, I'll be there."

The rest of that day ended up being rather uneventful, dinner was ready early and Potter insisted on curling up on the couch in front of Severus' fire. And Severus was riding the high of winning a verbal battle with the one person in the world he wouldn't have  _ wanted _ to approach. As long as he could read as well, Potter was allowed to wrap around him like a boa constrictor if he so wished.

So the sun set with them lounging on the sofa, and Severus thought it could be like this forever and he would be content. The boy ended up napping across Severus' lap, and he set up for a night of reading until he realized Potter had been partly awake the whole time.

"What are you reading?" Came the muted voice.

Severus spared Potter a glance before sighing heavily. "Some Muggle's interpretation of Plato's Symposium, though it might've helped to know the man was a wizard. The setting of the story itself is a dead giveaway."

"Who's Plato?" Potter asked quietly.

"He was a Greek philosopher, moderately famous during his lifetime, but he lacked the drive to take hold of the power he was given. He taught Muggles to see beyond their world, to accept things that many cannot see. Like love and anguish and sacrifice." Severus closed his book. "Petunia didn't like to examine what could lay beyond, she wouldn't have let you read it."

A soft snort, derisive and mocking. "She said that cleaning was the only thing I would need to know. I doubt she's even been inside a proper library."

"Oh, she has, believe me. Lily wouldn't have been able to go without Petunia."

The silence settled again, though Severus could tell that it was just a pause, a lull that could've become more if given the time. Potter must have something on his mind.

"What is it?"

It was Potter's turn to sigh. "Just, I dunno. I just feel- different. Like I could stay awake for hours, but I know I'm tired."

Ah, he knew  _ exactly _ what was wrong.

"What are you doing?" Potter exclaimed.

"You are pent up with energy. There are only two ways to expend it; rigorous exercise, or extreme stress." Severus let his hand continue massaging Potter's neck and shoulders as he set his book down. "Since I am too old for a run across the grounds, too clumsy for flying, and too warm to go for a walk, a massage will have to do."

Potter tensed up under him.

"What is wrong?"

Potter's muscles twitched around his fingers as if he were going to jump out of his skin. "I've never-"

Severus stopped, that amount of stress carried for over eleven years was as unhealthy as not being fed for that many years. “It won’t hurt, I promise.” He said quietly.

“It’s not that.” Potter rolled his shoulders, obviously  _ trying _ to relax. “I just- No one has ever  _ wanted _ to touch me.”

Severus felt a frown pull on his face. No one  _ wanted _ to touch the Chosen One?

“At least, not without wanting something from me,” Potter added.

_ That _ sounded right.

“It’s your status.” Severus muttered and continued to push at the hard muscles in Potter’s neck. “Everyone will want something.”

Potter’s sigh warmed Severus’ thigh. “I want things, too.”

“No doubt,” Severus felt Potter tense up again as he moved down the boy’s back. The skin here was marred with scars, and the muscles were harder than anything Severus had ever experienced in another individual.

“How do you handle it?”

“Hmm?” Severus had been too distracted by his work to remember what they were supposed to be talking about.

“People. Guilt. How do you manage?” Potter reiterated.

Severus snorted, but it sounded more like he was choking. He cleared his throat. “I don’t.” He said, seriously. “I ignore them, I put it out of my mind. My work required it of me. I couldn’t feel anything if I was going to succeed.”

Potter was quiet again, for so long that Severus had thought the boy had finally reached that well-deserved place of sleep and dreams. He smirked at himself, happy that he had been able to put Potter in that state, smug that he had been right. He leaned back, replaced the parts of Potter's shirt that he had moved to administer his type of medicine, and picked up his book to find where he’d left off. He let his other hand rest on Potter, where the boy’s neck met shoulder, and the spine sloped over the lungs and heart to taper at the waist.

“Do you want anything from me?” Came Potter's voice, quiet and timid, as if he had never meant to ask the question.

Severus pretended he didn’t hear, but it tugged at him until he was forced to open his mouth. “I-”

“If you do, I hope it’s nothing like what Voldemort wants from me,” Potter said as if it was obvious that Severus would want  _ some _ thing.

“Despite my affiliation, I do not desire everything that mad-man demands. I still have my humanity, Harry.” Severus pointed out.

“But you still want something.” Potter pushed.

Severus bit into his tongue but it still betrayed him, even after the punishment. “I want you to live. I want you to fight until you can’t anymore. And if you fall, I want you to spit in Dumbledore’s face when you see him.”

Potter’s body began to shake, and it seemed that Severus had said the wrong thing. Then a burst of sound left Potter rather suddenly and it took Severus a while to realize that the boy was laughing.

“What?” He asked.

“You are just bloody amazing,” Potter said, rolling over to face him. “Even if you don't know what to say, you say the right thing when you need to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fehu- Secret Mysteries


	7. Berkano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to take charge...

The Owlery had the most advantageous view of the whole valley, it was tall and nigh impregnable with its one winding staircase. It was a death trap now. It required teams of two or more to make the defense possible. Still, it served as one of the last towers standing in all of Britain.

But that was why Severus had chosen the walls. Even if there was a break-in, he _knew_ there were many hallways built into them, and he could slip away unnoticed by the creatures. It was also the closest to the entrance he could possibly be without alerting anyone who might’ve been watching.

If anyone was going to raise an alarm, it _should_ be him. The Owlery’s vision was blocked by all the trees here, Lupin wouldn’t be able to give anyone enough time.

Besides, Severus wanted to _see_ that Potter was alright, and everything had gone well.

Potter didn’t say anything before he left either, which both irritated and endeared him to the younger wizard. If Severus had to go through the lengthy goodbye Longbottom had shared with Miss Weasley, he would have killed them all in a fit of unbridled rage. But the Gryffindor was far more practical than his Housemates, he left Severus with no promises.

Just a kiss.

Like it might be their last chance, and it just might be. Potter may never come back, his friends could be slaughtered and he could be taken hostage by Voldemort. Killed on his knees with his arms tied behind his back, the body fed to the corpses that followed the Devil’s command. Or maybe the Dark Lord would torture the boy to death, and save the body for reanimation. Those brilliantly green eyes stripped of all color, all life, had haunted him throughout the night.

Severus only wished he had enough courage to return Potter’s affections; it had been their first- maybe their last- display of intimacy, and he froze. His body was well-trained to ignore the compulsions of his brain, and the impulsiveness of his youth was far behind him now.

He continued to replay the scene in his head, imagining all the different ways it could have ended.

Hours passed. The sun was finding it difficult to break through a thin layer of cloud, but it provided enough light to see both Lupin and Tonks high up in the tower. Though, Tonks’ obnoxious hair was a dead giveaway even _if_ Severus was mostly blind.

There was no movement in the Forest, it was as if the Inferi had chased down or chased away anything that might bleed red, leaving only the most ferocious creatures behind. Severus fleetingly wondered if Acromantulas were affected by the plague, or if they had an easier meal to come by.

The grass bent under the breeze, and the trees rustled every so often, keeping him alert and watchful. Who knew that fingernails scratching desperately, violently at your door would sound like a breeze through the trees? Then again, Severus thought to himself wryly, _everything_ sounded like some sort of calling card from the dead. If anyone in the castle still slept peacefully at night, it would be a wonder.

Severus kept looking up as the sun began to fall. It was barely noon, he knew it, but it felt like the sun was just _too damn fast._

And where was Potter?

By the time the sun was cradled by the trees, hanging around longer so that Severus was even _more_ anxious, there was finally movement in the dense pillars of trunks. He cast a silent Patronus and whispered his orders before sending the doe galloping away at top speed. Regardless of _what_ the movement was, Severus kept hidden. Not difficult when the shadows stretched long enough for him to stay in plain view. He must look like a ghost or at least a fraction of one.

It was still another thirty minutes before he could determine what it could be, and by then, Lupin had already sent a Patronus when it had been viewed from the Owlery. But the shimmer of an invisibility cloak was hard to miss, and the others’ Disillusionment Charms were even more discernible. The raid had gone well. Severus rushed to open the gates, they were locked both magically and manually to avoid undue disasters, and Potter’s group hurried through. A greeting party was already relieving the runners of their load as Severus secured the wards and returned the locks.

“All went well, then?” Minerva asked.

“There was one setback,” Potter reported, still wearing his armor. The stark difference was like the cracking of ice to Severus, now that he knew the teenager still bubbled beneath the surface every so often.

This wasn’t _his_ Harry.

It was Potter running the raids, fighting off starvation and dark wizards, and burying the people around them. The lucky, reckless bastard with the wit to match and enough know-how to slip in and out of the conflict. The part that had annoyed Severus for so long, it wasn’t who the boy had been at all. He never felt more akin to someone before, not even Lily. Because, even with her, he couldn’t be _everything_ that he was. She would have fought him.

“... We cannot afford to go out in the countryside, anymore. Voldemort is amassing them here, trying to siege us. We have to consider Protocol 23.” Potter was saying, and for all Severus had paid attention during the years, he’d never heard of any protocols in place. Minerva looked just as confused as he felt, so at least he wasn’t the only one who had been excluded when this had come into effect.

“Protocol 23 is to evacuate the children and whoever doesn’t want to fight. We have three safe houses set up for this, with enough room for every person here. Those who leave will be instructed to an exit that we chose, and then they will be accompanied by someone trusted to keep the peace.” Granger spoke up, again filling in what Potter evidently didn’t care to. “The three Chosen should head to their posts.”

Both Longbottom and Miss Weasley sped into the castle, and Granger was playing with something in her hand.

“Draco already knows. We need to get the potion ready.” Potter reminded her.

“What is going on, Potter?” Minerva asked.

Severus cleared his throat. “What have you been planning behind our backs?” He wondered aloud.

“I told you that I knew Voldemort was going to use the Inferi, and I didn’t tell you the whole truth,” Harry said, voice still level. “I never said how I knew, and you probably assumed it was from Voldemort’s head. But I gave him the idea, Dumbledore and I.”

“When?”

Harry looked away and became that damned Potter again. “We were looking for Horcruxes, and Dumbledore took me to a cave that Voldemort was using to hide one. These places are dangerous, he told me, and there were Inferi in the cave, at the bottom of the lake. One touch at the surface would draw them and they would drag you into the water, and I made a mistake. He saw it through my eyes because I was dying and he knew I would be easy prey. It’s his game, and he’s thinking he’s gonna win.

“But ‘Mione and I did research after Dumbledore saved me with the firestorm spell. We assumed Voldemort would use the Inferi, now that they were no longer guarding something of value. We made plans, to bring people here, to stock up on supplies, to help guard the castle, and, of course, to escape it. Honestly, I didn’t think about these things, I was more concerned with when I would have to face Him. Hermione has that ability to multitask, like Athena personified, really.” Potter shrugged, unlatching his old Quidditch gear. It had proven useful against the bites and scratches the creatures were bound to leave behind, making Severus wonder if Potter had ever been bitten before.

“So, we’re evacuating Hogwarts?” Remus asked. “Where are they going?”

“To one of six strongholds. I don’t know which ones, so I won’t tell anyone else.” Potter grunted as his makeshift breastplate fell off, the buckles having been undone magically. “I don’t want them to hurt you for information, so don’t fight if they get you. Death will come swift that way.”

The words struck Severus, hanging heavy in his gut. It was real, _this was real_. There was a high possibility that most of them would not make it through, and Potter had been preparing for this since the beginning. Since Sirius Black died, since Ronald Weasley succumbed to the Siege of the Burrow, since Cedric Diggory’s body came back with the boy during the Triwizard Tournament. Potter had only been waiting for Albus’ death to take full control. The people here were scared and vulnerable, and now, Potter was their only lifeline.

Well, now it was both Severus _and_ Potter.

“Minerva, get our fighters in the Great Hall,” Severus said. Breaking a silence he hadn’t known to have set in. Everyone around him looked surprised, and he knew he was the last person to _ever_ believe Potter, so this must mean something to them as well. “Potter, you need to lead them, so you’ll be the one to tell them what to do. Miss Granger, please follow me. There is much to do and very little time afforded to us.”

Severus swore he would cut the girl’s hair if it dipped into the potion, but it seemed like Merlin was not on his side today.

Twelve sleepless hours of brewing, and watching the poor girl attempt to understand the simplicity of the complexity of this potion, was far too much for him to handle. He reveled in the hours where Granger _did_ , in fact, manage to sleep, answering useless questions had taken its toll already, and the reprieve was much needed. He longed for this to be over, for the potion to be perfect, and for the ritual to commence. Every minute spent making sure this went right, was time he wasn’t devoted to the war effort, and he lamented it.

Every year of his life had been devoted to this; making potions in school, making potions at home, making potions for the Dark Lord, _teaching_ Potion-making to students, making potions for Dumbledore and Pomfrey, making potions for the Dark Lord again, and now, hopefully, this will be the last potion he ever _had_ to brew. Of course, he could never fully give it up, but having it be the center of his life was… _boring._ He hated the sedentary skill.

The only thing that made him take charge of this one, was Harry and the safety of the ritual he was to participate in.

He had the whole thing memorized, he was ready to get it over with, to try to move on from the destruction around them. It was time for a change. And the last things left to sever were Harry's Horcrux and Severus’ dark mark. Then, Harry would be the last master he would ever answer, and Harry hadn’t been one to take that lightly.

Two more hours, and the Elder wand would be Harry’s, unable to be used by anyone ever again. Two more hours and Severus would have to take from the boy, in order to give him the world.

Bitterly, he wished it wouldn’t work. That it would fail, and Potter would have to find some other way. A way that didn’t sacrifice their balance of power.

He would be a _much_ better asset that way.

Granger left to prepare the rest of the ritual, leaving him with a brilliantly purple potion to bottle. It was odd to be the catalyst to a fate he didn’t choose, to hold the very thing that would bind him.

Neither of them were healthy, by far. Potter hardly slept, barely ate enough to keep going, and was nearly run into the ground. Severus, himself, had not had the best chance in the game of survival, but he fought and clawed his way through it. If all else failed, he’d fight enough for the both of them. 

He supposed he would not see the younger wizard until the ritual was to begin. Potter would be busy herding people away and getting ready for battle.

It wasn’t until the day was surrendering to the night that Severus left his classroom, and made his way to the grounds. He set up three layers of warming spells, as they would be out there all night in the middle of deep autumn. Hoping Potter was already out there, and that _no one else_ was, he strode out through the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perthro- Wealth gained


	8. Dagaz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To rise up against the flood and take what belongs to you.

Severus wasn’t bad at sex, in fact, he was rather good at it.

But he had a lot of practice, as a double-spy, he had to be good at it. Sex was a way to distract targets, remove obstacles, and help him climb into the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord. He had many partners, in many settings, for many reasons. He was certainly no stranger to it, not like Harry.

Harry told him this. That the boy’s life had been too full of survival to enjoy the pleasures of thriving. Not for a lack of trying on Harry’s part, there had been many times he  _ could  _ have tried, but his mind had been too slow to catch up. The boy was emotionally stunted, and it was up to Severus to make sure that it was okay.

That was what made him stop, and refocus on something else, just so he didn't have to examine it too much.

He had never been in this position, being someone's first. Much less using it to power a rather difficult branch of magic, and one that required attention to detail. He had seen it done, but never  _ ever _ took part in it.

There were a lot of things he had recently done that he hadn’t before, and wasn’t that terrifying enough.

He remembered how terrified he was when Voldemort gave him the mark. How young and impressionable, and utterly stupid, he had been then. He remembered pain, fear, the smell of burning flesh, and his screams. He hoped this would be nothing like what Voldemort had done to him. The best sign, in his opinion, was how bright Harry's smile got when he finally made it into the Shrieking Shack.

The whole place was different, but the same long shadows bent across the floor. Creating an effect that made all the hairs on his body stand to attention, and yet he was more relaxed than he’d ever been. The layers of dust were gone, leaving behind gleaming wood and clean air. Belatedly, he wondered which of the two sorcerers had allergies.

“It’s not the best,” Granger said as she picked at the blanket draped across the floor. “But it will hold.”

“It’s perfect,” Harry said, and Severus looked at him. “It’s private and warm. That’s all I was hoping for.”

“We’re supposed to be under the moon,” Severus said, trying to sound bored. In truth, his heart was trying to escape its cage.

Harry said nothing to him about it, instead, focusing on the Granger woman. Maybe it was his way of coping. Severus certainly wasn’t going to stop him, it gave him a moment to be calm and think things through.

If he did anything wrong,  _ he  _ would be the one bearing the consequences.

“All right. Ginny and Neville are watching the doors, Luna is in the Tower. I'll be at the end of the tunnel.” Granger said, and Severus felt himself blush a bit. She was going to be _right_ _there,_ hearing everything.

“I know, Mione, this is why we had all those drills,” Harry muttered and escorted her to the secret entrance.

“There's plenty of water,” Were Granger’s last words before Harry shut her out.

Then they stood in the silence as if they were both afraid to break their silence and, subsequently, bring the situation back to the forefront of their minds. Severus refused to meet Harry's gaze because then it would be real, and he would have to deal with the fact that he was about to take the most powerful part of the younger wizard. He hated himself, for being weak and allowing this to happen, for not being willing to die like he was supposed to. He hated how he seized upon the first raft Harry had given him, and he hated how he knew that he would have done it again.

But Harry loved him, and it was enough to forget that for a while.

“I'm not a nice man,” he admitted.

Harry shook his head. “I don't expect you to be.”

“I mean, that I can hurt you and you may think that it is alright, but please, be honest. I  _ can  _ be kind, I just do not prefer it.”

“Severus,” Harry’s voice stopped him. All thought, every word, any protest he was about to make, all of it fell away at the sound of his name. “Do you remember the spell?”

“Yes.”

Harry nodded and slid his robe, burnt and torn in places that Severus felt he should worry about, off his shoulders. “It’s time.”

Severus glanced at the altar. It was just a coffee table, with the right candles, the right herbs, the specially-made potion and a knife sitting atop it. He removed the cork on his potion and took up the knife.

_ “Kenas ehwaz.” _ He muttered, almost to himself, before he drew the sharp end of the blade across his palm. It stung, nothing worse than what he’d been through before, and the blood pooled in his palm before he tilted his hand and dripped his life into the vial.  _ “Uruzu thurisaz, Jera eihwaz.” _

_ “Perthro fehu dagaz berkano.” _ Potter invoked beside him and took the blade. 

“For the protection of the home,” Severus muttered in English, watching the palm of Potter's hand as he waited.

_ “Algiz Inguz.”  _ Potter finished quietly.

Severus continued.  _ “Ceangail, cùm, dèan dhà ann an aon, Oir seasaidh sinn an aghaidh aingidheachd.” _

The purple liquid changed color, to deep gold and then finally to a soft blue. Severus nodded, they had performed the incantation perfectly and now they had to light the candles and place the herbs in the proper place. Harry took the candles like they had been practicing, and placed them around the soft rug on the floor.

Severus drowned his anxiety in the work, each herb had to be perfect and he would admit that he was stalling if he had been asked. But all too soon they were standing at the edge of the rug, staring at each other.

“I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now,” Harry told him with a nervous laugh, and Severus realized that was probably his cue.

With all the grace he could muster, he stepped into Harry's personal space and dragged his fingertips along the younger man’s jaw. “Just relax and be honest.” He lowered his voice before opening his mouth again. “If there is something you do not like, tell me. This is your night, and I would not have you merely  _ dealing  _ with it.”

He could hear Potter's throat working to swallow, and his mind was full of near-pornographic imagery. “Okay.”

That was as close to consent as Severus would ever get, and they didn't have enough time for him to make sure. Potter had been the one to find the magicks, and the one to drag him into participating. If that wasn't consent, then Severus was a frog and this whole thing was a dream.

“Take off your clothes,” Harry whispered, and Severus shook his head.

“No,” he muttered back and his own fingers fell to the waistband of Harry's trousers. He pulled the button and untucked Potter's shirt, why the boy still followed dress code was beyond him.

He remembered watching Harry dress in the morning, remembered how Harry always drew his own hands around his waist to make sure nothing could be grabbed and ripped. His hands made that path, from the small of Harry’s back to the front, loosening the shirt as he went. Potter's breath stuttered and he looked up. The boy was watching every movement, eyes wide and serious, and Severus felt something inside him boil. He brushed his thumbs against the skin, felt the goosebumps rise and the shiver that wracked Potter’s body. He pulled the shirt out, and straightened it, before moving towards the buttons.

“Why do you still wear the school’s clothes?” He asked as the shirt slipped open under his intense effort.

“I don’t have anything else that fits.” Harry admitted.

Severus shook his head, he hated how Harry lived before Hogwarts. It had been too familiar for his liking and he had fought Dumbledore for many years about it. No one should have to live below their means. In that new light, he shoved the old school shirt down Potter's arms and the skin laid bare was not unmarked. 

“Severus,” Harry said with a question in his voice.  _ What was he doing? _ “We don’t have much time.” He blinked and the world came back into focus, they were in the middle of a very dangerous spot, outside the wards. They had a few hours at most to complete the ritual, and Severus was dawdling. He was so afraid that he would hurt Harry in some unforeseen, unforgivable way.

“I know.” He grunted. His hands made quick work of Potter's belt and trouser button, and suddenly the boy was willingly naked before him. “But you have to be in the position of power, Harry, regardless of what position you take in tonight’s proceedings.”

“Then hurry up, and take me on the fucking floor.” Harry growled, gripping his wrists and pushing him into the circle.

Severus was surprised, he thought he would have to take over the whole situation and guide the younger wizard into the sexual world with a firm hand. But Harry was a whole new beast now. He wasted no time in disrobing Severus to utter nudity and then took up the potion. “I may be in charge, but I need your help.”

Severus waved his hand over the candle nearest him, and a flame sprang to life on the wick and spread to all the other candles. Red light flooded the shack, but it gave off an eerie glow when it met Harry’s tanned skin. The boy must’ve liked being outside. The smile Harry gave him spoke of fondness, but also of admiration.

Funny, Severus always thought that Potter was the more powerful of the two of them, but it seemed he had been at least mildly wrong. Harry still had to grow up, to learn all of these spells and how to use them and when. Suddenly, he was glad to still have an edge over the young warlord, however small. Harry stepped into his personal space again, hand tight around the vial and nervous all over. There was not one inch of him that wasn’t shaking.

Severus pulled Harry closer and onto the rug that Granger must’ve charmed to be more comfortable; he let the younger male spread over him and ran his hands down Potter’s sides. There was no use in a nervous lover, the spell would fail because there was one unwilling partner and they would lay dead in this hellhole until someone thought to come looking. “Breathe, Harry.” He reminded the boy and Potter let out a shaky breath.

“I’m so nervous,” Potter whispered with a self-deprecating smile. “It’s probably not very attractive.”

Severus shook his head, why would Harry worry about anything? “You’re extremely attractive.” He said, still shaking his head. “Nerves are normal. You are worrying about nothing, I will still see you as an annoying Gryffindor.” Harry’s smile made him bold, he leaned in and breathed the smell of the school soap that covered the boy. “And a rule-breaker.” He exhaled. “And mine.”

“Fuck, that made me hard,” Harry said with a breathy laugh, he could feel it move his hair, and reverberate in the room. Severus wrapped his hands around Potter’s thighs and pulled him up, making the boy sit up and display his arousal to a world that was dying. If it couldn’t be appreciated by the gods, then Severus would have to suffice. He traced the lines of the cock with the tip of his finger, careful to avoid the most sensitive parts lest this be over too quickly. Potter groaned as he drew his finger along the bottom, following the bulge of the vein Harry had here, the boy’s belly twitched with every touch. The sound was electric, it fueled him, even more, to take the prick in his mouth.

Harry was smaller than most men his age, so it was far too easy to swallow it down to the base. Severus let his own instinct take over, stricken so by the smell and feel of Harry Potter, and he had the boy shaking before he could even think.

“Severus,” Harry gasped in warning. But Severus couldn’t stop, it was like something had possessed him and was content to keep going, to have Harry rutting into his face, and to reach for the potion.

It was the spell. Severus could recognize it even if he couldn’t stop it, not that he would want to. This was what Harry wanted. This was what would save them, and their world.

He felt an urge and followed it- it was what he was supposed to do, fighting it would turn the spell into pain. He uncorked the vial again and poured it onto his hand, spreading the liquid across his fingers until his hand was dripping with it. Harry reached down to touch his face, pushing his hair back so he couldn’t hide his lack of control over the situation. He hoped Harry would understand.

The boy stiffened as Severus pushed the potion and his fingers inside his ass. It was tight and hot, Harry probably felt dirty and ashamed of how he clenched down. But Severus thought the boy couldn’t handle it yet, that it was too much and too fast,  _ and why did he agree to this when he was clearly hurting the boy? _

His mental evaluation was cut short as Harry’s orgasm surprised them both.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled as his hips pushed as far as Severus would allow. Dutifully, he swallowed it down until Harry’s body stopped heaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Berkano- change  
> Ceangail, cùm, dèan dhà ann an aon, Oir seasaidh sinn an aghaidh aingidheachd- Bind, hold, make two in one, For we stand up against wickedness

**Author's Note:**

> Priodas Cyfleustra- Marriage Convenience  
> 


End file.
